Idk, my BFF Wocky
by Hamilton.Library
Summary: Wocky and Trucy are friends now. Phoenix is concerned.
1. Chapter 1

He'd never admit it to anyone, but Wocky was actually a little grateful to his father. Yeah, it was a disappointing that the Kitakis were quitting the mob life, but his dad gave it up for Wocky's life. He still spent most of his days complaining about the lack of weapons (they had a few around for safety purposes, but for safety purposes _only_), but he taught himself to get used to it. He didn't want to be known for being dependent on a gun for safety, anyway. Yeah, fists were way more tuff.

Either way, Wocky Kitaki was back and ready to represent! ...Himself. He couldn't exactly be bad anymore, but he could still _look_ bad. And it's not like he had any problem with looking bad. Heck, it was how he got around.

But the only place to really "get around" was to go through People Park. Bo-ring. Like taking a lovely afternoon stroll through some park was gonna make him look any tougher. Er, badder. ...Even so, it ended up being his usual... er, hangout.

"Oh! Hey, Wocky!" Huh? Well, that was dang weird. Usually nobody tried to talk to him-- "Did you get the heart surgery? Are you alright?"

"Hey, yo! What's that about--" Since when did anyone know about the surgery?! "...Oh, hey. You that kid that helped that dude get me off the hook?"

"If you're talking about Polly, yup, that's me!"

Wocky took a few moments to stare at Trucy. At first, it looked like he was using his best effort to concentrate, then his facial expression kinda just went blank. Eventually, it kicked in. "Yo, Shorty! How ya been?"

Which made Trucy giggle.

"...Wait, G! That ain't funny! Wocky Kitaki ain't funny!"

"Hee! Sorry, Wocky. ...I kinda think you're a little funny. In a good way!"

"...Oh... Ya think?"

"Yeah, totally!"

"Y'know, you ain't too bad, Shorty." With that, some invisible force brought him to give her a small noogie. This kind of affection, from him, was as rare as sticking his head in a lion's mouth. ...Then again...

Wocky immediately stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Well, catch ya later, Shorty."

Before he could make it across the park, he found Trucy tugging on his arm.

"...Er, yeah?"

"Can I have your phone number? So we can like, talk and stuff?"

He shrugged. "Ya got a pen?"

A few hours later, Phoenix was concerned to see a stranger's phone number written in neon ink across his daughter's arm.


	2. Chapter 2

"School?!"

Plum Kitaki knew well enough to stay out of this one.

"Dad, that's wack! Man, I'm almost twenty! I'm too old for high school!"

"Not high school, Wocky. College. I want you to get a proper educa--"

"Aw, hell no! I'd never make it! I bet those classes are like, all day long! That's worse than one a' mom's cookin' classes!"

The two of them could hear a sword being drawn from the next room--a sign they should probably lower their voices.

"...Wocky, please. If you get a college degree, maybe you could get somewhere in life--"

"Hell, don't try that one again! I coulda gotten somewhere, but _you_--"

"You know that's not an option."

"..."

"Wocky, the mob is no life. I want you to go and get an honest job, and gain respect--not fear. It's more than I could say for myself."

Wocky was silent. His father was right, wasn't he? Everything the Kitakis had, they got through fear. Not only that--Wocky knew he had to grow up sooner or later.

But he wasn't about to let anyone think he'd lost.

"Y'know what?... You're wack."

And he walked to his room and locked the door. Talk about a blow-off.

-

The traces of green ink left on Trucy's arm had finally begun to pique her father's attention. Those digits weren't there when she left for school that morning.

"Trucy, how come you never tell me about school?"

"But I _do_, Daddy."

"Yeah, just grades and projects. What about what you ireally/i do--like your friends, boys..."

"Daddy!" Trucy blushed she knew this was leading somewhere--with Phoenix, it always did. "Daddy, you know I'm _your_ little girl."

"That's why I'm asking. I don't want my little angel to be taken away from me."

Trucy rolled her eyes and sighed annoyedly. "Before you ask, I don't have a boyfriend."

Phoenix raised and eyebrow.

_"And I'm not looking!"_

He laughed. "Good. You know you're not allowed to date until you're thirty."

"Okay, that's a little too pushy."

"You know I'm only kidding. Now get over here and give your dad a hug. I haven't seen you all day."

Trucy was trying her best to make it known that she was a young adult now, but she couldn't refuse a hug. She knew it would break her father's heart. So, she jumped up and hugged him.

Savor the moment, Phoenix thought. You never know when it might be the last.

That lovey-dovey moment didn't throw him off, though. As soon as Trucy left the room, Phoenix began programming the mystery number into his phone.

"Trucy, I'm going to the store. We're almost out of grape juice." It was a lie, of course, as Phoenix would never let the grape juice supply get even close to running out. He just needed an excuse to get out the door.

Once outside, he dialed the number. If it was just a friend from school, he'd let it go, but if it was a boy... Well, he'd probably have to file a restraining order.

Of course, what he got was the last thing he was expecting.

_"Yo, G! It's Wocky! If ya got a message, leave it an' scram."_

_Oh my God._

He left a little less than 45 seconds of silence after the tone before he finally hang up. _Is there something going on between my daughter and the son of the mob?! No, it was probably just a wrong number. Yeah, I mixed the numbers up. But then why didn't Trucy say something about it? She knows she can't get anything past me (except magic tricks), so it must have been something she was forced to hide..._

He'd call again later, when his hands stopped shaking.


	3. Chapter 3

"...The hell...?" Wocky set down his cell phone. What kinda freak calls a random number and leaves a ten-minute message and doesn't say anything? ...Maybe it was one minute. He turned it off before it was over.

Wocky had been sitting in his room with nothing to do for over an hour. He was always like this--get in an argument with his dad and he'd mope in his room until dinner. But, lately, it hadn't been moping so much as ... sitting around.

Man, he needed a hobby.

-

Trucy waited a full five minutes after her dad left to turn on her phone. For all she knew, he could be spying on her--she was just at the fridge and saw at least five bottles of grape juice, all unopened. She'd never understand Phoenix's obsession with grape juice.

She jumped on her bed--the couch--and excitedly typed in Wocky's number. She hadn't used too many of her minutes this month, since she only called Apollo one or two times. One extra call wasn't a bad thing, right?

-

Wocky checked the clock. It would be another hour before his mom called him out for dinner. Damn, and he was humgry. But he couldn't just get up and leave his room, could he? If anyone saw he wasn't sulking, they'd think he'd learned his lesson.

Almost as soon as he turned his phone back on to play that fuze-ball game, it started ringing. What, was today Waste Wocky's Minutes day? He answered it anyway.

"Hey, 'sup?"

"It's me, Trucy!"

...Wait, who?

"...Are you there?"

...

...Oh! "Yo, Shorty! Sorry 'bout that. My memory ain't so good."

She giggled. "It's okay."

"So... Watcha callin' for?"

"Huh?"

"I mean, watcha wanna tell me? Ain't that why you called, to tell me somethin'?"

"...I dunno. I didn't really think of anything..."

Geesh, she could've at least had a reason to call.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Trucy mumbled something about some new movie coming out. Wocky said something like, 'Yeah, that's cool...' Wait, which movie was she talking about? And then he said something like, 'Yo, I think Mom wants me to ad... ver... Tell my homes about the shop,' and Trucy said something like, 'I'll tell Daddy about it,' but Wocky was too busy trashketballing to pay attention.

After more mumbling, inspiration struck Trucy's mind.

"Oh, I know what we can talk about! Today at school—"

"Woah, hold up." Not that again. Wocky had just started to feel less agitated. He didn't want to start another school conversation.

"Don't talk to me about school. I don't wanna hear it."

There was a pause. And then he remembered who he just yelled at. Oh, shit... "...Uh... Sorry 'bout that, Shorty..."

But Trucy was too afraid to respond.

"...Shorty?"

"Oh, uh..."

"You alright?"

"...Uh, y-yeah..."

"...Look, I shouldn't a' yelled at you. See, my pop's just been wantin' me to go to college, and that ain't cool with me, so... ...Y'dig?"

"...You don't like school?"

What, she was surprised? Did she _like _school?

"Hell naw! All ya do is sit around an' do work—where's the fun in that?"

"Well, it's not _that_ bad... I mean, you get to hang out with your friends, without having to ask your parents!"

"I already got that. I can hang with my homes whenever I want."

"But learning is important... Isn't it?"

"Been home-schooled my whole life."

"...Oh... ...So then why do you have to go to college?"

"Man, I don't know! Dad says he wants me to get a job. If he'd a' just kept goin' with his own job, maybe I wouldn't a' needed some stupid college! I mean... Come on, man. College is wack."

...Aw, shit, was he being too hard on her again? He forgot he was talking to some elementary kid (...middle school?) instead of one of his G's. He was used to exerting authority on others, but she wasn't used to Wocky.

-

Trucy didn't know what to say. What _could_ she say? She thought college was a good idea, but if she agreed with Wocky's father, Wocky would hate her. She had already been scared half to death when he yelled earlier, and the last thing she wanted was for him to yell again.

Good thing she didn't have to say anything.

"Look, sorry, Shorty. It ain't your bad... but I gotta go eat. Mom's yellin'."

"...Okay. See you later... I guess."

Both phones hung up.

And, as if on some sort of cue, the door's handle began turning.


End file.
